


need you

by 6eyes



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Blood, F/M, but they are, i dont know why they're always hanging out in the bathroom in my fics, they're hanging out in the bathroom again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6eyes/pseuds/6eyes
Summary: Set immediately following the events of "Charlie Goes America All Over Everybody's Asses," Dee takes care of Charlie after he gets stabbed and they share meaningful glances and shit





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is really short fluff and i wrote it to ease myself back into this pairing which i LOVE. It's not much but i hope you enjoy! feedback appreciated. Thanks to howertitties on tumblr for beta reading. 
> 
> I am charliewerk on tumblr.

Dee and Charlie split when they hear the gunshot. 

“Oh shit, Dee, you hear that?” he says, whipping around to face her.

“Oh goddamn it, Frank and his buddies must be fucking around in the basement. Let’s just go. I don’t want to deal with this shit.” Dee hikes up her huge skirt and strides out of the bar, Charlie right behind her. 

When they get to Dee’s apartment, the stinging in his back from the fork-stab wound has lessened, but he can feel the back of his shirt sticking to the bloody injury. Once inside, Dee immediately grabs a beer from the fridge and starts pulling bobby pins out of her complicated ponytail. She’s leaning on her kitchen counter, her huge dress sagging on her shoulders. Charlie’s standing in the middle of her living room, still wearing that stupid bandana, twisting around to try to get a look at the damage. 

“Shit, that thing still bothering you?” she says, watching Charlie pull off his jean jacket. The denim is yet untainted, but the t-shirt is thoroughly soaked in blood.

“Yeah, it’s bothering me, Dee! It’s a goddamn stab wound!” He shrieks at her, eyes wild with increasing panic. 

“Calm down, bitch, it was a fork. It couldn’t have been that deep.” She rolls her eyes at him, but she can’t help noticing that the stain is still growing. “Seriously, calm down. Take a deep breath, have a beer.” She adds, noticing him beginning to hyperventilate.

“Are you kidding me, Dee? Do you see how much milk those assholes drink? They’re probably strong as hell, you bitch!” he says. He scoffs, face contorted, and pulls off the shirt. 

“Oh my god, Charlie! Gross! Don’t you dare put that down!” She yells, and runs over to grab his ruined t-shirt before he can get his blood all over her carpet. “Oh, come on! Let’s just get you cleaned up already, OK? Jesus Christ.” She leads him to the bathroom, and sets the shirt down in the sink. “Get in the tub.” she growls, turning the faucet on. She leaves the bathroom only to return in a moment with two more beers. In the bathtub, Charlie is sitting cross-legged, his face scrunched up, eyes darting and wide. “Here,” she offers. Charlie grunts his thanks and downs half the bottle in one swig. “Jesus christ, hold on,” she mumbles, and leaves the room again, this time for a few minutes. When she returns, she’s dressed only in a comically large t-shirt, the hem coming down past her knees. “I don’t want any of your blood on my shit,” she says, before leaning over the sink and starting on the soiled shirt. Cold water, hand soap, furious scrubbing. Charlie intently observes Dee as he finishes his own beer and starts in on Dee’s, his neck straining to get a look at her as she works. Her brow is knit, and locks of her hair sway around her face as she scrubs. A woozy smile floats across his face as Dee lifts up the shirt, now only pink in some parts, and tosses it downward, Slapping down hard on the side of the tub. “Jesus, Dee,” he gripes as she grabs her beer out of his hand. She takes a long sip and places the bottle out of his reach. 

“God, you’re a mess,” she sighs, but her expression is soft. She looks down at him and their eyes meet; hers wide and wondering, his squinting, scrunched-up. She shakes her head, almost imperceptibly, and her hair falls in front of her face. Her head blocks the light; for a moment, her wavy hair is a halo, illuminated. Charlie’s definitely tipsy now. “I’ll get you another beer.” 

She comes back and kneels down so their eyes meet. She sets the two beers down next to her on the bathroom floor and their eyes lock. For a moment, the tension in her features melts, and she peers at him imploringly. “How does it feel?” she asks him, and Charlie’s vision goes a little blurry. Instead of answering, he becomes hyper-aware of how close her face is. She searches for something in his eyes, but finds nothing. She leans back, her shoulders scrunched a little more tightly, her mouth turned down a little more at the corners. 

“Uh, I don’t know, it feels, uh,” he starts, but trails off, unable to recall what she was asking him.

“Ok, well, it looks… kind of gross,” she says, and the room feels a little colder when she looks away and reaches over to pick up a washcloth. She turns on the faucet and warm water laps at his toes. “Alright, I guess we better clean you up,” she says, just loud enough to hear over the rushing water. She swivels to press the cloth against his back, and the warmth seems to drain the tension from his body, working with the beer to spread a softness through his chest. He lets out a deep sigh, and his eyes drift back towards Dee. She looks focused, a little concerned. She’s pushing the cloth in slow circles, pressing gently, the tenderness in her movements unfamiliar to him. She catches his eye again, and this time her face doesn’t close, but she smiles a little, and Charlie’s heart beats just a little faster too. “God,” she sighs, “What would you do without me?” 

“I told you, Dee,” he says, and he lets himself smile back. “I need you.” 


End file.
